Public fact becomes private reality, and the seasons of a Midwestern town become the Moirai of our small lives.

Examination of strain data and cross sections suggests that the fensters expose rootless tectonic slices […]

… I staycationed there this summer, enjoying the ancient town of Sandbach with Saxon crosses in its cobbled square; …

And behold, I say unto you, the Supreme Genius doth not facultize ; the glory is not what it does but what it is ; it hath no old nor new, no here nor there ; it stays not to remember, to wonder, to compare ; to the vehm of the patrician Presence, omniscience were an idle labor and delay, and prophecy is forestalled and bootless in the sole sufficiency whose pæan hath no echo.